Run, run, run.
Stop, in Paradise, grow roots here, for now…. we are spending Summer here.
There doesn’t seem to be much to go back for- a handful of people we love, and who love us, but not enough to cotton wool us, to protect us from the bumps and bruises of that pain.
Run, and run. Work. All day, attend to my children’s every need, do my housework, keep my garden. Sleep, if both my children sleep, to pass the hours, make each day go faster.
I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’m rushing toward.
And then, when the children sleep- work. Fill every hour with projects and writing and learning.
And try not to think. Because I am so exhausted of thinking, so exhausted of relaying the same thoughts over and over. I try and spill them, purge them, let them flow blood red all over this keyboard, every day…
And yet still they come. My head is so full of thoughts. It feels like a dam, filling up with water… this blog a tap that continually running, the same clear liquid of guilt and pain over and over.
But there is hope, here. Not hope, as such, as much, as truth. Knowledge.
I am a survivor. There is nothing fun, or joyful in that.
But I survived this.
I can survive anything.
There’s life in that.
***
{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
I hope this doesn't sound stupid, but it's so interesting as an American to try to grasp the opposite seasons you all have Down Under.
It seems for us, me and my family, that most of our hard stuff happens in the winter, not the summer.
Do you know I think about you and wonder how you are every day? I hope you are having a good day, or even if you're not, that you're at least OK.
I guess just know that youre thought of, and I hope my thoughts are somehow getting to you across the world.
Oh Lori, I'm exhausted just reading this. I think this summer will be hard, but hopefully it will be good, too. This year of "firsts" will be behind you. Hold on, mama. It has to get better, baby steps. Lots of love.
The ocean heals us, bonds us and binds us to each other the world over. I hope you remain close to the sea, for you and Chop and Bump. I send blessings of springtime: baby birds, flower buds, lawnmowers and kids chasing one another about your feet.
Keep writing, keep sharing… you're helping others so much, I hope it's helping you the same way…
"Because I am so exhausted of thinking, so exhausted of relaying the same thoughts over and over."
This resonates with me because I feel the same about bipolar disorder.
Let's hope one day soon you will no longer have to run.
Sorry we did not catch up on the weekend.
Be free Lori. I wish you peace and calmness and a quiet mind.
I started to have a real interesting read after reading your post tonight. The quote is from Self Pity by DH Lawrwence
"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself"
I wasn't quite sure though how to interpret it.
I found a forum with 2 interesting views one says: "The bird in the poem dies nobly, with dignity. I think Lawrence is trying to tell us how to approach our own death. You can choose or succumb to some emotional reaction. If you choose, you can choose to be alive until you are dead."
The other was "They say, that the Human is the only creature which is aware of its own mortality.
Regret is another, higher order emotion peculiar to us; regret over things we have done, or didn't do.
I think D.H.L. envied the little bird its lack of these feelings, – which fill us with anguish, self loathing and self pity, sometimes … "
I like the thought that I can "choose to be alive until you I am dead".
I am sorry you've had a hard day, but thank you for leading me to this learning.
Oh Lori, winter will be over soon, and spring colors and the scent of sweet flowers will fill the air, everywhere you look, vibrant colors, bumble bees buzzing gently around the delicate petals, and warm breezes blowing pink, blue, and white petals, making them raining down from the trees, and you, watching with renewed hope; Chop playing, Bump dancing, dog laying in the sun. You will know you can't possibly work on a day like this, and instead you will soak up the spring, get a pretty tan from the sun shining down on you. There, you will find your happy place. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but there is one.
I am a survivor. There is nothing fun, or joyful in that.
But I survived this.
I can survive anything.
There's life in that.
Right there? You nailed it.
Been feeling a bit crappy the last few days. I know it's all relative, but thank you for reminding me that if someone like you can survive what you have, I've got no freakin' excuse.
Emma.
hope you do become a wild thing, or at least have moments where you feel like one. 1 year will be hard, sounds like you're feeling it already. well done surviving, its enough just to have survived being torn in half.
I love you and wish you nothing but love and one day (hopefully sooner rather than later) happiness.
Oh, Lori… I pray that this summer DOES bring the relief you're looking for. I know exactly what you mean by being exhausted of thinking. Our thoughts really can be a broken record, can't they? As for hope, know that I have hope for you – I have hope that one day you will be able to be happy again on a more regular basis. I have hope that you will get to a point where your thoughts stop acting like buzzards circling and circling. I have hope that the guilt and pain will dry up eventually.
HUG!!!
As always, I never quite know what to say but I soak up every word of what you write, hoping and hoping that doing so will take away the anxiety and the pain from you, if only for just a few minutes x